BOWERY 1962
When I exited
the subway on the Bowery
early on a Saturday morning
I saw bodies scattered all over
the sidewalk or propped up
in doorways, asleep in pools
of their own. The bars were open
for them as they woke up.
Mostly men,
they wore someone else’s
stained suit which made me think
that something had happened to them
on their way home from work.
I couldn’t see that this was their life;
that this was where they lived.